


Dave: Kiss Under Mistletoe

by astromancer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Mistletoe, POV Second Person, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astromancer/pseuds/astromancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose hosts a Christmas party for her friends and the trolls. Dave is looking for a reason to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dave: Kiss Under Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [my tumblr](http://kitkat--vantas.tumblr.com/post/36407492813/dave-kiss-under-mistletoe). This is my first homestuck fic, written back when I was in the midst of Act 3, so the characters are not exactly as to par as they should be. Bluh.

**Be Dave.**

You are Dave Strider, and you simply cannot wait for this Christmas party to be over.

As of right now, you have spent about an hour sitting on the couch in Rose’s elaborately-decorated-for-the-holidays living room.

Nepeta – the sweet troll she is – saw you sitting alone (as Karkat had not arrived yet), and so spent the entire hour talking to you about how much she ap _purr_ eciated the fact that Rose had gone through all the trouble to host this party and how spe _cat_ acular human holidays are and just about everything else under the fucking sun. And every single cat-related pun she slipped in just drove the nail deeper into your ironic head, leaving you, at the end of it all, with one hell of a massive headache.

When she had finally run out of things to say, she had left with a small wave and bounded over to the other side of the room to join Jade and John’s – seemingly expressive, and probably equally as dorky – conversation.

And so, as of right now, you are completely free to your own devices for the first time since you joined this party.

**Dave: Take advantage of this time.**

You decide to go into the kitchen to get away from the others for a while. Here, you attempt to drown your pain and sorrows in the eggnog – sitting more or less untouched – in the fridge.

It’s not that you’re not enjoying the party; you appreciate the thought and effort Rose put into making this night perfect for her guests. It is her  _choice_  of guests, however, that has got you questioning your being here. These trolls are nothing but a pain, really, and youjust don’t understand your friends’ fascinations with them.

Nevertheless, you drink about half of the carton of liquid cake before figuring that you can’t very well spend the rest of the night in here, no matter how much you’d like to. With your headache slightly dissipated, you stride – ironically, of course – back into Rose’s living room. After giving the room a once-over glance you notice that everyone is, for once, occupied with something other than your seemingly radiant presence.

Good. Everyone’s too busy to bother you now.

The room is crowded and loud, however, and causes your headache to return at full strength; for the sake of both your sanity and tolerance levels you decide it would be wisest not to stay.

However, as you turn around to leave, you catch glimpse of a dark grey lump on the couch nearest the fireplace, which just happens to pique your interest.

**Dave: Investigate lump.**

You succeed in making your way across the room and over to the couch without catching anyone’s attention and inspect the lump, quickly taking note of stubby horns protruding from soft black locks.

…Karkat?

And… is he  _sleeping?_

It is then that you realize you haven’t seen him at all since you came here. Shows what kind of boyfriend you are, not even noticing his arrival while you spend your time talking to someone else entirely.

But the fact that he was able to fall asleep amongst all this noise is a wonder, you think. Cocking your head thoughtfully to the side, you contemplate what to do about this situation.

**Dave: Consider options.**

Even though you knew it would piss him off greatly (and would be highly amusing), drawing a dick on his sleeping face is definitely not an option at this time, seeing as you are currently not carrying anything remotely close to a drawing utensil on your person. You make a mental note to ascertain that this issue does not arise again and instead search the nearby surroundings to try and find something worthwhile to do to the unconscious troll.

All you really had to do was look a little ways upwards to find something potentially interesting. Among Rose’s multitude of holiday decorations, she had most definitely not missed the iconic holiday mistletoe, which just happened to be situated directly above Karkat’s head.

_Oh, sweet naïve little troll._

**Dave: Kiss Karkat under the mistletoe.**

Leaning toward him and placing a hand on the arm of the couch (which he is currently using as a makeshift pillow) to keep you steady, you strategically maneuver away from a pointed fang protruding from his mouth and brush your lips gently against his.

He shifts slightly, but otherwise does not wake. He does, however, mumble something nearly incoherent which you never would have caught had you not been mere inches away from his face. It was a single word, one that sounded an awful lot like “Dave”.

_Oh._

_Well then._

…At least you  _think_ it was your name that had tumbled from his lips. But you can’t keep second-guessing everything, can you? Might as well give it another shot to see if you receive the same response.

**Dave: Do it again.**

You press your lips against his once more. This timearound, however, his eyes fly open in complete and utter shock. Unable to move back - as his body is firmly pressed against the couch - he pushes your face away from his, sharp nails grazing against your skin, and he’s sputtering and cursing vehemently at you in his half-conscious state.

When he comes out of his waking daze he glares right through your shades, huffing irritably and reminding you very much of a ruffled kitten. Which he totally is.

“What the fuck, Dave? What do you think you’re doing?” He’s not glaring at you anymore. Instead, his gaze is somewhere behind you, flitting back and forth, scanning the background in concern for any sign that someone was watching. You, on the other hand, couldn’t give two shits.

“Kissing you,” you say simply, grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat as you do so.

His freckled cheeks are a deep shade of red, and you can barely stifle your laugh at just how flustered he looks. You lean in close and whisper in his ear.

“Hey, you totally enjoyed it, babe. Don’t even lie. Girls all over the globe would kill to get a piece of Dave Strider, and you don’t even have to try.”

Karkat huffs again and he pushes you away, sitting up with a scowl. He’s still looking around the room, making sure that no one had been watching your exchange _._ In fact, he seems to be making it his goal to look everywhere  _but_  at you.

_Aww, poor Karkles is embarrassed. So fucking cute._

“Besides,” you add, pointing to the spot above Karkat’s head, “Your fault for purposely putting yourself in such a vulnerable position.”

He follows the direction of your finger, and in a flash his eyes widen in a mixture of fear and confusion as his gaze stops on the offending object hanging directly above him. 

“THE FUCK IS THAT? THAT WASN’T THERE BEFORE!”

You could have sworn you heard Rose’s soft giggle amongst the crowd in response to Karkat’s outburst. Glancing over, you manage to catch a fleeting glimpse of an impish curve of glossy black lips and a dark-lashed wink before they were obscured by a curtain of blonde. A smirk makes its way onto your face at that.

**Dave: Kiss him once more.**

You lean down toward Karkat again, ignoring his (rather feeble) protests as you capture his lips again. This time he sighs through his nose, relaxing finally, and kisses you back. You run your tongue along his lips, requesting entrance. He parts his lips and provides little resistance as you slip your tongue in, running it lightly along his pointed teeth and eliciting a purr from the troll.

You wonder for a moment whether he likes the taste of eggnog, however that thought is taken away from you as he breaks the kiss to nip lightly at your bottom lip with his sharp teeth. He is careful enough not to puncture the skin but audacious enough to bite, allowing you to recognise the potential danger of his alien features, as well as leaving your mind absolutely spinning with the heat of it all. He releases your lip and smooths the flesh with his slick grey tongue, assuaging the nearly non-existent bite mark he left as he runs his fingers gingerly through your hair.

Damn him and his tender side. You swear he will be the death of you.

“Merry Christmas, Kitkat,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his with every syllable. He replies with a “fuck you” before he captures your lips with his own this time. You can’t help but smile into his kiss.

Maybe going to this party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


End file.
